Chapter 38
HER TURN
RIPLEY
“I knew it wasn’t her.”
The humble brag comes from Grandma the next day as the three of us settle into a table at the restaurant at The Ladybug Inn.
Haven’s call time isn’t till this afternoon, so we stole away for a girls’ breakfast like old times, when Grandma used to take us here once a month back when we were in high school. Well, as long as we brought home good grades and excellent attendance.
Haven knits her brow at the older woman. “How did you know there’s a pic?”
Amused, Grandma shakes her head. “Send my girls out of the nest, and they forget all about me.”
Haven’s mouth falls open in awareness. “You’re right. I almost forgot about Daisy’s penchant for gossip. She told you?”
Grandma nods. Her bestie loves gossip, so I’m guessing she showed Grandma the pic of Haven, New Chris, and the director from Page Six this morning.
I saw it too—Banks showed it to me as we walked Hudson together. He laughed about it, mostly over our twin antics. He said the same thing as Grandma. I knew it was you.
Right now, he’s waiting outside the restaurant with Wanda. I sort of feel like we should invite them in, but Grandma wanted to have a just family meal.
“How did you know it was Ripley pretending to be me?” Haven whispers.
Grandma grabs her phone from her purse and swipes up. She clicks on something, then swivels the screen around, tapping on that pic. “Ripley always has this little extra sass in her eyes and her expression.”
“Thanks, Grandma,” I say dryly. “And Haven’s sweeter?”
Haven flashes her good-girl-next-door grin. “I’m sugar. You’re salt.”
I roll my eyes, but still I say, with a you-got-me-there shrug, “No lies detected.”
But before Grandma puts her phone away, something catches my attention on screen. “That’s not Page Six. I thought that’s where the picture ran. But it’s on VIP Vibes too?”
“Seems so.” She pauses. “But why do you ask?”
I’m not sure why it matters. “The angle’s just different than the other pic.
” I study the photo info, but it just says News Site Ink.
Banks told me that’s the company that buys pics from photographers and sells them to celeb sites.
He said the stocky guy—Ludwig—sells to News Site Ink a lot, which supplies to VIP Vibes.
And Silas sells to Page Six. That makes sense, after all.
I relax again. “It’s nothing. There were two photogs last night, so of course there’d be a couple angles. ”
“And neither one fooled me,” Grandma says, “because you’re mine and I’ve never not been able to tell you two apart. But I do think it’s hilarious that you’re still doing that. You tricked your parents, but…”
Haven and I look at each other, grinning as we recite Grandma’s rallying cry in unison. “We never tricked you.”
“You never did,” she says, then thumps her reading glasses case against the table. “Let’s order.”
We order the ladybug pancakes, and when we close our menus, I turn to my sister. “Also, that was close,” I say, letting out a belated sigh of relief over last night’s fake-out.
“I still can’t believe you pulled it off,” she says, grinning. “Vega texted me this morning to tell me she loved my ideas and can’t wait for the wedding scene.”
“That’s this afternoon?”
“Yes. It’s the first scene in the film but one of the last ones we’re shooting. We should go out and celebrate some night before I leave,” she says, her voice pitching up. “With Chloe and Bridget.”
“Let’s do it,” I say.
The shoot ends after this weekend. That’s a reminder that I should talk to Banks about us. But when Grandma clears her throat and says, “Now, girls. I have something I want to tell you,” I drop all thoughts of my own romance.
Is she sick? Is something wrong? I’m not even sure why I go there, except when you open the door to a police officer telling you your parents are dead, sometimes you assume the worst.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice threaded with worry.
She reaches across the table for my hand. “I know you’re saving for me to go to cooking school in Paris, but I decided I’m doing it myself. I have money saved,” she says.
“No,” I say instantly. “I told you I want to. As a gift to you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“But I want to,” I repeat, then rattle off all the reasons. The farm is growing in popularity. Sales are up. Tourism is increasing.
I take a breath, building up a new head of steam, but Haven cuts me off. “Actually, I paid for your school.”
Grandma snaps her gaze to Haven. “What?”
“You can go anytime. I did it last night, and I’ll email you the info. You’ve both worked so hard to help me, but it’s my turn now. I want to give this to you, Grandma. And I didn’t want Ripley to know. So I went ahead and took care of it all on my own.”
“Haven,” I say quietly, my throat tightening with emotion.
My sister squares her shoulders. “It’s my turn to give back.”
My little sister. Younger by only five minutes, but she’s always seemed like the baby of the family. Now, she’s taking care of both of us, and it’s beautiful to see because of how far she’s come.
Grandma’s lip quivers, and she meets Haven’s eyes, then mine. She reaches for one of my hands and one of Haven’s. “My girls.”
It’s said with such affection and love that my heart breaks in a whole new way—with happiness for the family we became out of necessity one snowy night, then shaped with this deep and abiding love.
Grandma turns her attention to the hostess stand. “We should get two more place settings.”
She rises and heads to the front of the café, motioning for Banks and Wanda to join us. They do, keeping watch the whole time, but—I think—enjoying their ladybug pancakes, nonetheless.
After breakfast, Haven’s phone rings with Tabitha’s name flashing across it.
She chats briefly with the producer as we leave The Ladybug Inn, then says to her, “I’m on it.
” When she ends the call, she says, “A PA spilled coffee on the wedding dress. It’s ruined and we need a new one, stat, so Tabitha tracked one down at Second Time Around.
They’re doing a quick adjustment to the straps, and I offered to pick it up on our way back. ”
We hustle over to the consignment shop in town and snag the replacement gown. As we leave, there’s a tour group coming down the street that stops and asks my sister for autographs.
“We love Someone Else’s Ring so much,” one woman says.
“And you’re Lucy Snow! She’s so tough. The way she walked out on her wedding day,” another coos.
“And you and Chris are the perfect pair to play them,” one more adds.
Haven smiles and thanks them all as she signs and poses for selfies.
Wanda stays close to Haven while Grandma and I stand back, Banks scanning the street, watching over us. Across the road, some passersby slow down, lifting their phones to take pics of the moment.
Cyrus would think that was very meta too.
I can’t wait to tell him. Better yet, to show him.
I grab my phone to snap a pic of it, but once I open the camera the group across the street has moved on.
As they walk toward the corner, I spot a profile that feels familiar.
But then they turn down the block and out of sight, so I let the déjà vu sensation slip away as I return to the farm.